I took the kids to the pool this evening. Well, I didn't take Jackson since he can't swim until he gets his stitches out. And I didn't take Brooklyn because I told her she had to eat her dinner if she wanted to go to the pool. Instead of eating, she chose to lick a piece of bread and drink half a cup of Hershey's syrup (don't ask). But the other 4 and I headed over to the pool after dinner.
We walked in and a boy said, "Hi Savannah!" A BOY said hi to my little girl!
In my mind, I walked over to him and demanded, "Why are you talking to my daughter? Do you know she's only 13? How do you know her? You better not let your eyes drop below her face, Mister! And pull up your trunks! And get a haircut!" I snapped back to reality and kept on walking before I could embarrass my daughter and make her hate me forever.
Instead I casually asked Savannah, "So, who is that and why does he think he has the right to talk to you?!" I mean, "So, how do you know him?"
Just as casually, she answered, "From school."
"A-HA!" I shouted in her face! "I mean, oh, really, you know him from school. That's nice."
She looked at me, perplexed as to why I was suddenly acting like some sort of psychopath.
"He's just a boy, Mom," she assured me with only the slightest hint of an eye roll.
"Do I know his parents?! Does he go to church? Where does he live? What kind of grades does he get? Does he smoke? Does he do drugs? Is he a nice boy?"
"I mean, um, what's his name?" I asked with a forced smile.
Savannah looked at me, deadpan, and was about to tell me to get a grip when a group of her girlfriends came over, giggling and talking and they all ran off toward the diving board. Being the completely sensible, logical, non-freak-outish mother I am, I sent Lexi to spy on her. Then I sat down to design Savannah's future bathing suit.